Midnight in the Garden
by maidenpride
Summary: Written for 2018 Secret Santa gift exchange. Prompt: angst with a happy ending. Jean sits out in the garden and reflects on her life.


**AN: This story was written for ladyknope as part of the 2019 TDBM Secret Santa gift exchange. Her Christmas wish was a story with a little angst and a happy ending. I hope I delivered on your wish, happy holidays one and all.**

Jean sat on the bench outside sipping a cup of tea wondering where all this went so very wrong. Was it because she defied the church and its teachings? Surely God didn't care so much about one parishioner that he'd continue to strike her down. She knew she was being silly thinking that, after all the world was a big place and if God wasn't paying attention to President Kennedy's safety why would he give a second thought to a former farmer turned part-time politician, part-time sleuth.

She sipped at her tea not minding the overly hot liquid rolling down the back of her throat. It was a cool evening for December, unusually so she thought as a small shiver ran down her body. She hadn't thought to bring a sweater out with her to keep warm, but now she feared the chill would drive her back inside and she wanted to be anywhere but there.

It was Christmas Eve. Perhaps that was really what made her think about the church in the first place. Normally right now she'd be at mass, not at her old church of course she hadn't been there in a few years, but she'd found a small one in the next town that she found to be nice. It was a non-dominational service, a bit loose for her traditional tastes but she was coming around to the idea. She'd been invited to join the choir which she thought was a sweet gesture of inclusion, but she declined, she wasn't ready to get too involved with any church.

As she sat here alone on Christmas Eve by her own choosing, she wondered if it was the right call, Matthew and Alice invited her over for dinner this evening. Both Charlie and Rose each sent her a note saying she was more than welcome to come by for a visit. Even Christopher who wouldn't be reassigned to a base in Australia for another four months, wrote to her concerned about how she would spend the holidays. She however was more concerned about him, the signs on the wall there would be another war soon and America was likely to draw the rest of the world in with them. She pushed the thought immediately aside, she couldn't deal with the distant chance of her boy being sent away to fight, it'd be his father all over again. Another shiver went through her body, but this time she knew it wasn't just the chilly air, taking another drink of the hot liquid she calmed herself. Her thoughts drifted to her other son. He had come around, in a way, as Lucien said he might. Jack would never be thrilled that she was with anyone that wasn't his father, but she had at least seen and heard from him more often which was something. She couldn't fathom another estrangement right now. To be fair there wasn't "another" one, there wasn't any, but it was easier in her mind to label what was going on between her and Lucien as such. If it had any other word attached she'd be crushed and she wasn't willing to give up yet, an estrangement could be fixed. Her mind travel back to the Christmas she nearly lost him, _"I've got nothing left,"_ she'd told Mr. Baker at the cemetery. It wasn't entirely true she had her boys, but Lucien had become such a part of her that in that moment with a gun pointed at him it did feel like she'd have nothing left. It felt a little like she did every day now, but still she soldiered on. Lucien was alive she felt it, if he was gone she'd have felt something like she did with Christopher a pain in her heart, a gut sensation. Lucien was alive and she continued on living for him, because he was what she had left to live for.

Jean looked across the garden then up towards the sky, the moon was beginning to rise in the east and blanket the yard in its soft glow. She hated seeing the moon rise, it was the mark of the day ending, another day passing without Lucien here by her side. She'd told this to Alice once who remarked, sensibly of course, that the moon's cycle knew nothing of her troubles and didn't mark the end of the day at all. The notion that the sun and the moon are signals of the times of day are just aids to those without a watch. She then added, "Besides if you're going to have issues with any cycle it should be the solar one, after all it's the one starting a new day without Lucien." Alice was just being rational and didn't mean to take away from Jean's pain or the symbolism she felt about her loss, but she found it stung just the same. She didn't understand how to Jean the sun rising gave her hope that today in the light of the day Lucien would find his way back to her, that she wouldn't spend another night without him. The moon coming meant her hopes had once again been dashed.

Her thoughts drifted back to the significance of this particular night. Christmas Eve. Christmas was her favorite holiday, she loved all holidays, but this one in particular had always been the best. It wasn't for the reasons that most children love the day, for the presents they'd receive or all the delicious sweets they'd consume. Although she loved baking and wasn't known to deny herself a little something sweet from time to time. For her it was the religious significance, the idea of a birth bringing new life and hope into the world. This year though she struggled to move past her own grief to celebrate the day.

When her children were still young at home, after Christopher left for the war, it was hard to enjoy the festivities without him there, but for the kid's sake of normalcy she did. He'd been gone so long that even after word of his death had come the idea of Christmas without him took on a new permanence but the tradition had already been established. It was sad and she knew that she'd never be as happy on Christmas as she was those first few years with her whole family, the boys young and excited about Santa. You don't get that time back, whether the family stays whole or not. Kids grow up and move away. She'd hoped to see more of Amelia and now that Rosie was expecting again she couldn't wait for them to be back in Australia - she was missing out on so much. She clutched the note she'd opened an hour earlier in her pocket, it was a Christmas note from Christopher and Rosie sharing the news that they were expecting, due in early May. They asked if she'd consider moving to Canberra where he'd be stationed next, to be closer to family. The thought touched her heart and recalling his words once more drew tears from her eyes. She'd told him more than once, reassured rather, that she wasn't putting her life on hold during this period of "estrangement," but she couldn't leave Ballarat because it was her home. It was all true of course, but while she may not utter it to her son or aloud to anyone else there was a part of her that was staying put just in case. She'd read an article once about a search and rescue in the Alps. The column had shared advice if you ever found yourself in a similar situation, that often staying put is the best option. If you are on the move while the search for you is underway then it's harder for them to find you. While she wasn't the one that was missing, she did feel like if she left Ballarat how would he find her again. She didn't doubt that a mind like Lucien's would find her, but after all this time apart she didn't want to make it harder to be together once more. So she stayed. She stayed and now it was Christmas Eve, their first Christmas apart.

Jean hadn't bothered with putting up a tree and decorating it. By herself it was just so much work and with an empty house it just seemed like it would be a glaring light in the corner of the room reminding her that she was alone for the holidays. She did hang their stockings, she wasn't sure what impulse made her pull them out, but she did find surprising comfort from seeing them hanging beside on another in front of the fireplace in their room. The doors were open now, but she still didn't sleep in there. She left the room just as it was, except the stockings. Now though a small part of her regretted not getting a tree. It would have been sparse, with no gifts underneath but it might have been nice. The smell of pine always made her feel like it was truly Christmas, helped get her into the swing of things. She doubted that a little sprig of pine would cure what ailed her holiday blues this year, but there was no way to disprove it now.

She clutched at her now nearly empty cup of tea, what heat was left was quickly dissipating from the ceramic into her hands. As she looked up into the sky she noticed that the moon had risen a great deal more then when she last took notice, she'd been out here longer than she thought. A shiver ran through her and this time it didn't stop, running her free hand up and down the sleeve of her blouse she knew it was futile to warm herself and it was time to return inside. She didn't want to though, going inside meant rinsing the dishes, changing into her night clothes and going to bed. She didn't say going to sleep these days because it'd been months since she'd actually slept. She hated the night and all that it brought with it. So she suffered the cold awhile longer, absent-mindedly rubbing her arms.

Sometimes she'd sit out here and talk to him as if he were sitting in the lounge chair beside her reading the paper, or analyzing a piece of evidence. Tonight words alluded her, the silence was both comforting and torturous.

She didn't have a sense of how long she'd been humming or even what brought on this impromptu holiday cheer. It was her favorite, perhaps not all-time that would always be _Silent Night_. Her grandma used to sing it to her and her sister when they were young. It didn't matter whether it was sung or played on the bells it was a beautiful song that seemed to burrow its way deep into her bones, her soul. It was a past comfort that briefly warmed her thoughts.

But she wasn't humming that song, she'd unconsciously dove into _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_. It was a more modern song, one that after seeing Judy Garland perform it in the pictures it took up a special place in her heart. _Meet Me in St. Louis_ was one of her favorite films, not just because it came out during the war when they all needed a break, a moment to remember the joys of life and romance. It was a film about love overcoming everything else and in that first moment seeing Garland she felt a connection. She'd cried throughout the entire film. When she saw it she knew that Christopher was never coming home. A small piece of her was holding out for hope that he would return to her now that the war was over, or nearly so. It was a cold day in the middle of July 1945, the European campaign was over and the papers seemed confident that Allied Forces were weeks from winning in Japan. All the troops would be returning home and Christopher would be on one of those boats, the Army got things wrong all the time. Information coming in from the front was unreliable at best and so a part of her said a prayer and burned a candle at church for his safe return.

It wasn't meant to be of course, she knew it at the time, but still watching that film had given her a reprieve if only for an hour or so to think that the love she and Christopher shared would be enough to overcome a World War. Despite knowing the outcome of the film and that life, she couldn't help herself but watch it whenever it came on the TV. She wished there was a way for her to watch it whenever she wanted, as many times as she wanted, but since that was an impossibility she savored the opportunities she got.

 _"Oh," she exclaimed._

 _"What dear?" Lucien said pausing as he helped her set the table._

 _She sat on the edge of the sofa and let out a soft "Aw" and a hum as Judy Garland came onto the screen bursting into song. They didn't usually have the TV on during dinner, in fact with a few exceptions it was never on. Occasionally Lucien would put the radio or record player on when they dined alone, it was sweet and romantic._

 _Their TV was only black and white, but it didn't matter she could still see all the vibrant colors in her mind. She felt Lucien come up behind her and place a hand to her back._

 _"Say, who is that actress? She looks familiar. Should I know her?" He said pointing at the screen._

 _Jean tried to stifle a laugh but it was pointless, she let out a hearty chuckle and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek, "Yes dear. That's Judy Garland only one of the most talented actresses in Hollywood. She was in Wizard of Oz."_

 _"Is that the one with the flying monkeys?" He inquired._

 _She thought it was odd that the monkeys were the only thing he recalled from the film, "Yes that's the one."_

 _"I didn't much care for it, those monkeys reminded me too much of the howlers I encountered in Asia. Horrible beasts," he said waving a hand in the air, turning away from the screen and moving back into the kitchen, "So this isn't that movie is it?" His voice dropped an octave and she could sense his dread at the possibility that this was indeed the Wizard of Oz and that it might be a film Jean loved. She toyed with the idea of tormenting him, but then Judy twirled and she caved, "No it's not. This is a musical about four sisters learning about life on the eve of the World's Fair."_

 _"Oh, I see," he said returning with a glass of sherry for her, the relief evident in his voice, "I take it you enjoy it?"_

 _"Yes," she let out a small wistful sigh, "It's one of my favorites. There's this song that she sings that, well it just gets me into the holiday spirit no matter what time of year I hear it." She started humming it to herself. Lucien gave her a quizzical look clearly unfamiliar with the tune._

 _In a low voice she stared up at him and began reciting the song,_

 _"Have yourself a merry little Christmas / Let your heart be light / For now on your troubles will be out of sight," her voice broke as it always did when she got to the third line of the song. Her troubles would never be out of sight or miles away, but it was a touching sentiment._

That night any troubles she might have felt were miles away. For the first time since she memorized that song she truly felt the sentiment the song carried. Now she wished she'd paid more attention, maybe if she had she would have seen what was lurking just out of her sight. She sighed, but she hadn't and here she was sitting on a bench growing ever colder as the moon rose even higher humming a song that no longer made her feel as happy as it once had.

She yawned and stretched her arms, trying to loosen the cold setting into her muscles. She yawned in an effort to stop humming that damned song. Mid-yawn she realized that the yard wasn't as silent as it should be at this hour. Concerned she quickly rose forgetting the tea cup laying next to her place on the bench. As she turned towards the house she noticed she'd left the light on in the sitting room, a bit cautiously she began walking back. The closer she got the louder the sounds became until she was close enough to place that it wasn't just random noises, it was music.

Jean hadn't turned the record player on in quite some time. Occasionally she'd put the TV or radio on for the noise, it was strange but it kept her company, it made the house feel less empty. She thought back to what she was doing before she came outside and couldn't recall having turned it on. The revelation made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, it was possible it was Alice or Matthew coming to check up on her, concerned about her being alone on the first holiday without Lucien. But it was also possible it was someone else. Lucien had upset a number of people before he disappeared, and she hadn't made many friends since gaining her appointment. Out of an abundance of caution she picked up a wrench laying near her clothesline, she'd been using it to test out a theory and much like her husband forgot it there in her hasty realization of a clue. Tonight she was grateful for her oversight in cleanliness and organization. She had a gun, Lucien got it for her it was a small silver revolver with a pearl-inlay handle, but it was in the nightstand. The wrench would have to suffice.

Using both hands she held a firm grip onto the handle and moved into the sunroom. The music was louder now, she'd could just make out the song. In the two seconds it took for her ears to hear the sound and her brain to process it she dropped the wrench and ran inside. There would be only one reason that song would be playing in this house and only one reason that it would be playing without her putting it on.

"Lucien!" She shouted and ran inside the kitchen turning the corner to look into the sitting room.

There in his chair, where he should be, sat her husband, his head up in thought.

"Is it really you?" Her hands covered her mouth as tears bound down her cheeks.

He got up from the chair and moved towards her, "I looked all throughout the house for you, then I remember it was Christmas Eve and you'd be attending an evening service."

"I didn't go, I couldn't," she stammered, "I was out in the yard looking at the moon wishing for you."

"I'm here darling, I'm so terribly sorry it's taken me so long to get home to you," he held his hands out.

It was only in his stiff movements that Jean looked down and noticed the horrible limp he had, "Oh my Lucien, you're hurt!" She rushed to him and sat him on the couch, pulling her towards him in one swift movement.

He chuckled at the force with which Jean achieved her objective, "A little, but nothing that time and a little nursing won't help."

She leaned back to get a better look at him, still stunned that he was sitting in front of her. Her hands went into his hair, letting her fingers run through it. She kissed him and he quickly and feverishly kissed her back. Their tears mixed as lips and tongue and teeth met, reacquainting themselves with one another. Once she was satisfied that he was real and it was a dream she lowered her head and rested it beneath his chin. He pulled her back against him and then the pair settled into the couch.

Jean glanced towards the record player that was still playing that song, "I started humming this out in the yard awhile ago. I didn't know why at the time, I haven't felt very Christmasy this year and didn't have it or any song stuck in my head," she began to say.

"I picked it up when I first arrived in Sydney I saw it in a window display and thought of you. I didn't think you had a copy of it so I bought it as a gift to bring home to you. I'm so sorry I wasn't home sooner Jean, truly. I'm not sure how or if you should ever forgive me for disappearing on you like that, but I will spend the rest of my days making it up to you," he placed a firm but gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"You can tell me more later, but tonight I just want to be here with you on Christmas," she whispered choking back tears snuggling deeper against his chest. "For better or worse, For better or worse," he whispered his arms holding onto her tightly, and for the first time in months she actually felt like she could sleep.

Despite the song playing the room filled with a comfortable silence. There were no decorations, no tree. There was no Christmas roast to prepare, no guests to feed. There were no carolers or holly hung with care, and yet it was the merriest little Christmas Jean had ever celebrated.

"Through the years we all will be together / If the fates allow— / Hang a shining star upon the highest place / So have yourself a merry little Christmas."

 **AN: Meet Me in St. Louis was released November 28, 1944 in the US, but didn't hit theaters in Australia until July 12, 1945. The timing of it and Jean's early life were parallels I couldn't stop thinking about. Thanks ladyknope for thinking of the song, I hope this story makes you smile this Christmas.**


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